Souls Lost and Found
by Allie02
Summary: A response to a challenge at the SheppardTeyla LiveJournal community to write the morning after the night before for John and Teyla.


**Souls Lost and Found**

His arm tightened instinctively around her waist as an eruption of distant gunfire awoke him. It only took a few seconds for his brain to register the sound and reignite the tiny shred of hope he had been clinging to for weeks. The rescue team was finally here. Teyla had obviously come to the same conclusion for she was already on her feet and moving towards the door of the cell. He thought it strange that the the feeling of her departure from his arms seemed to outweigh the relief he felt in finally being rescued.

"It's good to see you, Sir." Lorne didn't expect a response, and he didn't get one. He ordered a member of his team to escort the remaining inhabitants of the labour camp to the gate while Carson assessed Teyla's health before turning his attention to John. His subordinate was only too pleased to comply. Desperate to escape the stench of sweat and human waste, he quickly led the other prisoners through the open doors of the cell. Lorne glanced around the large room, slowly taking in the true horror of the situation. Sheppard and Teyla had been there for six weeks, forced into slavery and living in squalor with hundreds of other prisoners from across the galaxy. He almost hadn't recognised them, the look of melancholy so unfamiliar on either of their faces.

John sat opposite Ronon and Teyla in the rear of the puddle jumper, with Carson to his right and Rodney to his left. Lorne and his team conversed quietly in the front, waiting till they were near to the gate before contacting Atlantis. John heard the buzz of conversation from the city's gateroom through the radio as Lorne relayed the results of the mission. The sound was almost harsh to his ears, which had grown used to the silence that came hand in hand with the loss of hope.

He felt as though he had lived the past few weeks with his eyes and ears closed off to the world. As though his ability to see and hear the beauty in life had been stripped away alongside his uniform and weapons. The only sounds he now clung to after this experience were from the previous night.

They hadn't spoken for weeks. Each day was the same, working in the tunnels until they were too weak to stand, before being herded into their cells for their only meal and a few hours of sleep. They kept together night and day, as wary of the other prisoners as they were of their captors. Though they had tried to resist, slowly and surely they had both begun to lose the traits that had made them who they were. Within the first week Teyla had stopped smiling at his comments and vain attempts to make light of the situation. By the second week he too had given up the hope of ever finding a means to escape and had resigned himself to simply accepting their fate. The other inmates didn't speak to them or each other, and the dejected silence of the cells was almost welcoming after the incessant thumping and pummeling in the mines.

He had no idea what had changed or why she had needed comfort from him last night. The day had been no more difficult than those previously, and yet he immediately sensed the difference in her when they settled down for the night in a secluded corner of the cell. She rested her head on his shoulder as he drew the blanket over them, leaning into him to stave off a non-existent cold. It was as much as he had done every other night, but there was a new restlessness about her that intrigued him. He had only just closed his eyes when he felt her hand drift under the hem of shirt and her fingers ghost over his stomach towards his chest. Her touch began to rekindle a fire within him that he thought had died along with his identity. John felt his cheeks flush as he remembered the movement of her hands across his body, and his laboured attempts to control his response to her, as so not to draw the attention of the cell's other occupants.

Finally finding the courage to look up from the floor of the jumper, he caught Ronon looking pensively at his neck. John quickly raised the edge of the blanket wrapped around him to cover the offending area of skin. Closing his eyes, he sighed as he recalled how Teyla had sunk her teeth into him when she believed she could no longer prevent the sounds of delight from escaping her lips. The quick and intense pain he had felt was just as exhilarating as the pleasure that the rest of his body had been experiencing.

Opening his eyes again, his gaze moved towards her. Her head rested lightly against the wall as she stared blankly at the roof of the jumper. Her hands were clasped tightly together, and John couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking. She hasn't even glanced at him since Ronon and Lorne had burst into the cell. He began to wonder if she had only needed to be with him to remind herself that she was still alive. That if another member of the expedition had been there in his place, it could have just as easily have happened between the two of them. He too had felt the need to cling to anything and anyone associated with his previous life, to remind himself just why he had to to hold on to that last glimmer of hope. But he had also felt the need to be with her, and only her. And although they were free now, that hunger only seemed to grow stronger.

"John?"

It took him a moment to realise that the spoken name was his, and that the speaker was expecting a response. "Yeah, I'm here Elizabeth." Though he didn't hear her answer, all he could hear was the sound of a different female voice whispering that word into his ear. She had been breathless, her hands clutching tightly at his shoulders as his body moved exquisitely above and into her. He had almost forgotten that he had a name, not hearing it being spoken for so long. He returned the affirmation when he felt her body arch into his. "Teyla." The gasp that had escaped from her lips had made him smile, the action feeling almost alien to his facial muscles.

He wonders if she knew that she had saved his life, that without her, he would have abandoned all faith in his people and in himself weeks ago. Her acceptance of his comfort had helped John to rediscover himself, her presence a constant reminder of the life he once had and could one day return to. The guilt that he felt for being thankful of her company through this suffering was overcome by the belief that he would have been lost without her.

As the jumper came to a halt, she finally looked at him. It was not much more than a flick of her eyes in his direction followed by the slightest quirk of the lips, but it was enough. He knew that she needed time away from him, that his mere presence would remind her as much of their shared ordeal as the solace that they had given and found in each other. But he also knew her well enough to be confident in her ability to heal physically and emotionally. The hatch opened, and John waited for Teyla to disembark before slowly getting to his feet. He would be waiting when she was ready, to let him in to her soul once more.


End file.
